


Drunken Confessions

by corys_the_bosmer



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Bronn’s POV, F/M, Jaime is a lightweight, Scenes I’d like to see, Season 8, just for fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 12:54:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17467946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corys_the_bosmer/pseuds/corys_the_bosmer
Summary: Bronn isn’t enjoying his time at Winterfell, so one evening he persuades some of his friends to go for a drink.





	Drunken Confessions

Everything was cold and grey and grim, and Bronn was already sick of it. The frozen ground, the walls of Winterfell, the northerners themselves. He’d been north of the Wall once before, but he didn’t remember it being this fucking cold. Maybe he was just getting old. 

I should be in my castle right now, he thought moodily, trudging through the slush as he tried to cross the courtyard. Despite all their talk of Lannisters paying their debts, Jaime didn’t seem to be in any hurry to settle that one. Bronn kicked at a drift of snow, thinking of his bag of gold, lost among the ashes near the Blackwater Rush. 

Why the fuck am I here? he asked himself, not for the first time since leaving Kings Landing. Jon Snow, or Aegon Targaryen, or whatever the fuck he was called, had asked him the same thing the first evening they’d arrived. Bronn had simply replied that Jaime still owed him a castle, a lordship and a wife, and he was here to make sure that Jaime didn’t do anything stupid to get himself killed before he’d paid up. 

Everyone had seemed to accept that answer, but it hadn’t made him popular with the northerners. At least Daenerys hadn’t found out that he was the one who’d shot her dragon. 

The more he thought about it, the more Bronn was surprised that he and Jaime still had their heads attached to their bodies. He suspected that Tyrion had something to do with that. If anyone could talk people into, or out of anything, it would be him. 

Getting to see Tyrion and Podrick again was the one good thing about this whole fucked up mess. Not that they’d had a lot of time to talk. Preparations for the coming war were keeping everyone busy. Tyrion was usually discussing plans with the dragon queen and Jon Snowgaryen, and Pod was busy training with Brienne. Bronn had been impressed with the younger man’s skill when he’d seen them sparring. 

He knew he hadn’t been the only one watching them. Jaime had been there too, but Bronn knew he’d been paying more attention to Brienne than her squire. 

Seven hells, that man was hopeless. They’d been in Winterfell almost a week now, and he still hadn’t said a word to her, as far as Bronn knew. He’d seen them looking at each other, at mealtimes, during planning sessions, both of them glancing away when they realised that the other was watching. 

I might have to do something about that, Bronn thought, before one or both of them ends up dead. Maybe if I locked the two of them in a cupboard, they’d have to talk to each other then. Podrick would probably be willing to help. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a crash and a shout from one of the storage sheds. Davos Seaworth was trying to organise boxes of supplies. Dozens of newly-made dragonglass arrowheads were scattered in the snow. 

“Go and pick those up,” Davos told the young lad who’d been helping him. “We can’t afford to lose a single one.”

The young man scrambled to obey. A couple had landed by Bronn’s feet. He picked them up. He’d heard of dragonglass before, but never seen it. It was black, shiny and surprisingly sharp, a fiery rock that they said could kill White Walkers. 

Just as well, thought Bronn, we’d be totally fucked without it. 

He tossed the arrowheads back into the box. 

“Thanks,” said Davos. 

“I’ll have to get myself some of those, when the time comes.” Bronn remarked. 

“Hopefully there’ll be enough to go round.”

“You really think any amount will be enough, with what we’re facing?” Bronn asked. 

“Maybe not, but it’s better than nothing.”

Bronn quite liked the old smuggler. Despite having been on opposite sides during the battle of Blackwater Bay, Davos didn’t seem to be holding a grudge, which made him one of the few people in the castle with any fucking sense, as far as Bronn was concerned. 

“Dragons will be a lot more use. You’d think these Targaryens would be able to destroy the lot of them on their own.”

“I’m sure they mean to try.” Davos replied. 

“And then the bards will sing of how Queen Daenerys and King Jon defeated the evil from beyond the Wall and saved the Seven Kingdoms. The likes of us will get forgotten.”

“You never know. Maybe someone will sing of the smuggler and the sell-sword who helped them.”

“A ballard of two boys from Flee Bottom who had to keep saving these fucking high-borns from their own stupidity?” Bronn considered that for a moment. “I could live with that.”

“We are both anointed knights, after all.”

Bronn nodded. 

“Ser Bronn and Ser Davos, heroes of the war against the dead. It’s got a nice ring to it.”

“I never wanted to be a hero. I just wanted to serve a good king.”

“I just wanted to get paid.” Bronn said dryly. 

Davos let out a short laugh. 

“I’ll drink to that,” he said. 

“There must be somewhere round here we could get a drink.” Bronn mused. 

“There are places in Winter Town if you’re not too bothered about polite company. Or clean cups.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll ask Tyrion if he wants to come. And Podrick. It’s been too long since we had a drink together.”

“I think we might all need more than one at the moment.”

It was Bronn’s turn to laugh. 

“Now ain’t that the truth? Later then?”

Davos nodded, and Bronn continued indoors leaving him and his young assistant to finish tidying up. 

It was almost as busy inside the castle as it was outside. Bronn found Tyrion carrying a pile of scrolls, followed by Sam Tarly, his arms filled with books. They’d been reading everything they could find on the White Walkers, trying to find anything that would help them. 

“Any luck?” Bronn asked. 

“Not really,” Tyrion replied wearily, “Nothing we didn’t already know.”

“You look like you could do with a break. Davos Seaworth says there’s a place we can get a drink. How about it? There might even be some girls worth looking at.”

Tyrion grinned. 

“Good to know you haven’t changed since I left Kings Landing.” He handed the scrolls to Sam, who hurried off with them. 

“What? Did you think your brother was going to be a good influence?”

“Not likely. I’d hoped you two would be able to keep each other out of trouble, at the very least.”

Bronn spread his hands in mock innocence. 

“He’s the one that keeps getting me into trouble. You two fuckers will be the death of me, I swear.”

Tyrion laughed. 

“Well, that is what we pay you for.”

“I don’t get paid enough for all this shit.” He counted off on his fingers. “Castle. Lordship. Wife.”

“Yes, yes. I haven’t forgotten. And I’m sure Jaime hasn’t either. A Lannister always pays his...”

“Don’t you fucking start that with me.” Bronn interrupted. “I get enough of that from your brother.”

“It’s a well-known saying because it’s true.” Tyrion insisted. 

“Just as long as one of you lives long enough to make sure of that. You can start by buying me a drink this evening.”

“Fair enough.”

“Seen Podrick anywhere? I was going to get him to come too.”

“Good idea. It will be like the good old days.”

“When the weather was warm and life was simple, you mean?”

“Something along those lines.” Tyrion looked thoughtful for a moment. “See if you can find Jaime and invite him along as well. He looks like he needs cheering up.”

Bronn nodded. 

“That way you can both buy me a drink.”

“You see? We’re paying out debts already.”

“You’ll have to buy me a hell of a lot of drinks if you want to pay me back that way.” Bronn told him. 

“But at least it’s a start,” Tyrion said. “I’ll see you later. Her grace will want to know if our research has proved useful.”

He turned and followed Sam down the corridor towards the guest rooms, and Bronn went in search of Podrick. 

Pod had just finished helping Brienne train some of the younger northerners when Bronn found him. He was keen to go for a drink, and Brienne was happy enough to let him, once his duties were finished for the day. 

Bronn briefly considered asking Brienne if she wanted to come as well. If he could persuade Jaime to join them, maybe a couple of drinks would be all the pair of them needed to finally talk to each other. Or fuck each other. Whatever worked. 

He decided against it, however. He wasn’t sure Jaime would appreciate him interfering like that, and Brienne almost certainly wouldn’t. But maybe between them he and Tyrion could give Jaime a push in the right direction. 

He finally found Jaime standing on one of the covered walkways that over-looked the courtyard. He was watching the activity below without much interest, hunched in his cloak against the cold. 

“There you are,” Bronn greeted him, leaning on the rail beside him. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“Oh?”

“Thought you might want to come for a drink with us this evening.”

“Who’s us?” Jaime asked. 

“Me, Podrick and Tyrion. Oh, and Davos Seaworth.”

“I didn’t know you knew Ser Davos.”

“I don’t really. But us low-borns have to stick together. And your brother seems to like him.”

“Tyrion likes most people.” Jaime remarked. 

“And most people like him. Probably because he has a sense of humour. You used to have one too.”

Jaime only hmphed in response. 

“I mean, you were an arrogant arsehole, but at least you were better company.”

Jaime hadn’t been in a good mood since the day they’d taken High Garden. Daenerys’ attack and then news of the army of the dead hadn’t done anything to improve it. Bronn had eventually got it all out of him during their journey north. Olenna Tyrell’s last confession, everything that had happened between Jaime and his sister the day he’d left Kings Landing. 

Arriving in Winterfell hadn’t made things much better. Being re-united with his brother had cheered him up slightly, but the less-than-warm welcome from the northerners had left Jaime as sombre as before. 

Bronn had a fairly good idea what would make him happy though. 

At that moment, Brienne crossed the courtyard below them, heading towards the stables. Jaime’s eyes found her straight away, and his face got that same far-away look that Bronn had seen before. 

Once Brienne had disappeared, Bronn said

“Come for a fucking drink. Take an evening off from whatever it is you’re doing, and try to relax for a change.”

Jaime looked exasperated. 

“You’re not going to leave me alone until I say yes, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Fine. I’ll come for a drink.”

“Good.” Bronn clapped him on the shoulder. “Bring some gold.”

He walked off before Jaime could say anything else. 

The rest of the day passed without incident. Night came quickly in the north, and people began to finish their work for the day and get inside out of the cold. 

Bronn found Podrick waiting for him outside the great hall. He seemed excited about going for a drink. Bronn suspected that it was the first real evening off he’d had in a while. 

“You ready, Pod?”

“Yep,” he replied with a grin. 

“Good. Now we just need to find the others.”

“I haven’t seen Lord Tyrion all day. Ser Jaime was watching things going on in the courtyard.”

“Watching Brienne, you mean,” said Bronn with a smirk. 

“Well, yes. Probably.”

“Definitely. He’s fucking besotted with her, even if he can’t admit it. The idiot.”

He paused for a moment, thinking.

“I reckon we’re going to have to help them out a bit, Podrick.”

“What do you mean?” Pod asked. 

“He wants her. She wants him. But they’re both as hopeless as each other. We might just have to... nudge things along a bit.”

“How are we going to do that?”

Bronn grinned. 

“Just follow my lead.” 

Podrick was about to ask something else when they saw Davos approaching. 

“Ser Bronn,” he said. 

“Ser Davos,” Bronn replied with a mock bow. 

Davos grinned in response. 

“There’s something I need to take care of. It shouldn’t take long. I’ll meet you at the tavern.”

“No problem. We’re still waiting for the Lannisters anyway.”

“The Lannisters?” asked Davos, puzzled. 

“Uh huh. I invited Jaime as well. Even high-born idiots need a night off occasionally.”

Davos nodded, still frowning. 

“You know where the tavern is?” he asked. 

“I’ll find it.” Bronn replied. “I have an instinct for these things.”

Beside him, Podrick let out a laugh. 

“See you there, then.” Davos said before walking off. 

“Where the fuck are they?” Bronn wondered out loud. 

“I don’t know.” Podrick replied. 

“It’s not like Tyrion to be late for a drink. Mind you, I suppose it takes Jaime a while to get ready, what with his lack of fingers and all.”

“Why doesn’t he have a squire?” Pod asked. 

“Don’t know.” Bronn replied. 

“At least he has you to help him with things.”

Bronn caught sight of the younger man’s grin and cuffed him round the head. 

“I do not get paid enough to help Jaime fucking Lannister with his fucking clothes.”

At that moment they saw Jaime come down the stairs further along the corridor. He didn’t look any happier than he had when Bronn had spoken to him earlier. 

“Where’s Tyrion?” Jaime asked when he reached them. 

“Not sure,” Bronn replied. “Last time I saw him, he was off to talk to their graces the Targaryens.”

Jaime frowned but didn’t say anything. 

A few moments later a young serving boy approached them. 

“I beg your pardon, my lords,” he started nervously. “Lord Tyrion sent me to tell you that he won’t be joining you this evening, as he is very busy with her grace Queen Daenerys.”

Jaime nodded acknowledgment and the boy dashed off. 

“Must be pretty fucking important if it’s keeping your brother away from a drink.” Bronn grumbled. 

Podrick looked disappointed too. 

“Maybe we should just go another time,” he suggested. 

“Nah,” said Bronn. “Let’s go anyway. I’m sure it’s what he’d want.”

He started moving towards the door. Jaime hesitated. 

“Come the fuck on,” Bronn told him. “You’re not getting out of buying me a drink that easily. Not considering what you owe me.”

Jaime scowled. 

“Fine,” he said. 

They made their way outside. It was already dark, but at least the snow had stopped. 

They walked in silence for a while. 

“How many winters have you seen Pod?” Bronn asked. 

“Just one, when I was young. We didn’t have snow like this though. It’s almost beautiful, in a way.”

“Uh huh,” said Bronn. “Well, I’m glad you managed to get the evening off.”

“I think my lady will be glad of a quiet evening. She’s been working very hard.”

“Maybe we should have invited her too.”

Pod hesitated. 

“I’m not sure she would want to go for a drink in a tavern. She is a lady, after all. Even if she isn’t exactly lady-like, like other ladies.”

“No, I guess not.” Bronn replied. He glanced sideways at Jaime. He didn’t react, seemingly concentrating on where he was putting his feet on the half-frozen path. 

“No, there’s no-one quite like Lady Brienne.” Bronn continued. “Wouldn’t you agree, Jaime?”

“Of course I would.” Jaime said shortly. 

“Good to know.” Bronn said cheerfully. Jaime was frowning slightly. 

“I mean, she might not be your typical lady, but she’s a fucking good fighter, from what I hear. Ain’t that right, Pod?”

“Er, yes. Yes, she is.”

“Very nice blonde hair too. Not that all of us are that picky about hair colour.”

Jaime had stopped walking and was glaring at him. 

“What?” Bronn asked. 

“Stop it.” Jaime warned him. 

“What?” Bronn said again. “I’m just making conversation. That’s what you do when you go for a drink with friends. You talk, have a good time. That’s the idea, anyway. If I didn’t know your brother, I might think that the rules were different if you go for a drink with the man who’s paying you to keep him alive.”

The glare lessened slightly, but he still didn’t look happy. Bronn decided that Jaime probably needed at least one drink in him before he mentioned Brienne again. 

“Let’s find this tavern, it’s not getting any warmer out here.”

He started walking again. Jaime hesitated a moment, then followed him. Bronn suspected that if they’d still been closer to Winterfell he might have gone back instead. 

There were a few people around when they got to Winter Town. Several of them seemed to be heading the same way. Bronn guessed it might be towards the tavern and followed them. 

He saw Davos approaching from the opposite direction, a tall figure walking beside him. It was Sandor Clegane, and he looked about as happy as Jaime did. 

“You found it then.” Davos greeted Bronn. 

“Yep. Not that hard really. I see you found a friend.” Bronn replied, nodding at the Hound. 

Clegane just glared at all of them and went inside. Davos shrugged slightly. 

“Let’s get inside, it’s bloody freezing out here.”

Jaime still looked reluctant, so Bronn waited to make sure that he didn’t decide to change his mind, letting him go in first. 

The inside of the tavern was dimly lit, and smelt of smoke and stale beer. Bronn noticed that most of the people inside had stopped drinking and were looking at them. Clegane paid no attention and stomped over to a table in the corner. People quickly got out of his way. 

In the quiet, Podrick whispered to Bronn. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Yeah, of course.”

He walked over to the bar. The man behind it didn’t look too happy about a bunch of southerners in his tavern. 

Bronn have him a smile. 

“Five ales please.”

The barkeep didn’t move, continuing to stare at them. 

Bronn looked expectantly at Jaime, who sighed and reached for his coin purse. He tossed a couple of coins on to the bar. 

“Coming right up,” the barkeep said, quickly whisking the coins out of sight. He poured ale into some tankards. Bronn, Podrick and Davos carried them over to the table where the Hound was sitting. All the eyes of the people in the tavern seemed to follow them. 

Once they were all seated, Bronn raised his tankard. 

“Cheers then.”

Pod and Davos raised theirs in return. The Hound didn’t say anything, downing half his drink in a few gulps. 

Jaime was watching the other people sitting nearby. 

“We’re probably going to get murdered before the White Walkers even get here.” He eyed his tankard suspiciously. “Or die of some kind of plague.”

“Stop being such a fucking snob.” Bronn told him. “It’s not that bad.”

Jaime still looked skeptical, but took an experimental sip. 

“Urgh,” he said quietly, making a face. 

Bronn couldn’t help smirking. He took a gulp of his own drink. It wasn’t the worst thing he’d ever tasted. 

“Tormund Giantsbane once told me that the wildlings drink fermented yak milk.” Davos said conversationally. 

“Charming,” remarked Jaime. 

He took another gulp of his ale, barely managing to supress a shudder as he swallowed. Clegane noticed, however. 

“What’s the matter, Lannister? Not up to your usual standards?” 

“It’s not exactly an Arbor Gold.” Jaime replied. “It’s no wonder the northerners are so miserable all the time.”

“Why are you drinking it then?”

“I have no idea,” said Jaime shortly, putting his tankard down and standing up. 

“Oh, sit down,” Bronn told him. “Fuck knows we might not have many evenings of leisure left. Might as well make the most of it while we can.” He took another swig of his own drink. 

“What else are you going to do? Spend another night alone in your room, sulking?”

Jaime just glared at him. 

“Anyway, we just paid good money for this ale. Be a shame to waste it.”

“You mean I paid good money for it.” Jaime corrected him. 

“And very generous of you it was too.” Bronn raised his tankard again in salute. “Now sit down and drink your drink.”

People at nearby tables were still watching them. 

Still scowling, Jaime sat down and reluctantly took another sip. 

Satisfied, Bronn turned to Clegane. 

“I’m still wondering how the fuck you got mixed up in all this. I’d have thought you’d had more sense.”

Now it was the Hound’s turn to glare. Was everyone in a foul mood this evening?

“You haven’t seen what I’ve seen.” Clegane growled. 

“No,” agreed Bronn, “but I’ve heard all about it. Seems to me the smart thing to do would be to head south. Not up north to the freezing arse-end of nowhere.”

“You’re here. You can’t be that smart.”

“I’m getting paid. By the time all this is over, I’m going to be a very rich man.”

The Hound looked from him to Jaime and snorted. 

“I admire your optimism.” Davos said to Bronn. 

“Oh, I plan on having a long and happy retirement. Somewhere warm and sunny. I’ve got no intention of being killed by dead men.”

“Probably should have stayed in the south then.” Clegane remarked. 

“I’m a sell-sword. I go where the money is.” Bronn nodded at Jaime. 

The Hound just snorted again and returned to his drink. 

Jaime took another sip of his drink with barely a grimace this time. 

“I thought Lord Tyrion was joining us.” Davos said. 

“He was going to,” Jaime replied, “but Daenerys Targaryen had something she wanted to discuss with him.”

“Shame he couldn’t come,” said Bronn. “At least he knows how to enjoy himself.”

He turned to Podrick, who’d been sitting quietly across the table from him, nursing his drink. 

“We had some good times, didn’t we Pod?”

“We did,” Podrick agreed. 

“I can imagine,” said Jaime dryly. 

“Look, don’t you start getting grumpy with me, just because we all know that your brother is more fun at a party than you are. Not that I’ve ever been to a party with you, unless you count that feast at the Twins. Which I don’t.”

“I seem to recall that you had quite a good time that night.” Jaime replied. 

“Alright,” Bronn admitted grudgingly. “But that was one night out of, how many years now? When I get my castle, I’m going to have parties all the time. With really good wine. And lots of pretty girls. And you won’t be invited.”

Bronn finished his drink. 

“Fine, fine.” Jaime said. He sounded exasperated, but Bronn was sure he could detect amusement too. The awful ale must be starting to take effect. He waved the barkeep over for another round. 

He brought over five more drinks, and Bronn made sure to swap Jaime’s almost empty tankard for a full one. 

“They ain’t free.” The barkeep growled. 

“Of course not,” Bronn replied. He turned to Jaime, who just arched his eyebrows. 

“I said I’d buy you a drink. One. Singular.”

“Fuck’s sake.” Bronn grumbled. 

He reached for his own coin purse and handed some money to the barkeep, who quickly took it and left. 

“This is the thanks I get, after everything I’ve done for you.”

“You’ve been paid very well for your services.” Jaime told him. “By both me and my brother.” 

“Not enough, considering what I’ve put up with. And I don’t think the last lot should count.”

“I paid you. It’s not my fault that you dropped it.”

“You mean, while I was busy trying to avoid dragon fire and Dothraki so I could save your fucking life. Again.”

“And I’m very grateful.”

“Funny way of showing it.” Bronn continued. “Since I’ve been working for you, I’ve nearly been set on fire, nearly drowned, I’ve been poisoned and I’ve been attacked by just about everyone in the Seven fucking Kingdoms. And I got punched in the face.”

“And you’ve made a lot of money doing it.”

Bronn turned to face him and spoke very slowly and clearly. 

“Castle. Lordship. Wife.”

“I know, I know. I’m hardly likely to forget, am I?”

“I should fucking hope not.” Bronn turned back to his drink. 

The others had been watching the exchange in silence. 

“I heard about that battle,” Davos said after a moment. “Did you really charge at the dragon with a spear?”

“I wasn’t aiming for the dragon. I was aiming for Daenerys.” Jaime told him. 

“Who standing next to the fucking dragon.” Bronn muttered. 

Jaime ignored him. 

“Why?” asked Davos. 

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Bronn took advantage of Jaime’s momentary distraction and topped up his half-empty drink. Jaime didn’t seem to notice. 

“One day, they’re going to write that on your grave marker. ‘Here lies Jaime Lannister: idiot’.” Bronn shook his head. 

“You two really have seen some excitement haven’t you?” Davos remarked. 

“That’s one way of putting it.” Bronn said. 

“I suppose it is.” Jaime added. He hiccuped. “Excuse me.”

Bronn exchanged an amused glance with Podrick. The ale was working a lot quicker than he’d thought. Clearly the ability to hold his drink wasn’t something that Jaime had in common with his younger brother. 

“I think I could do with less excitement.” Bronn said. “I’m ready for a bit of boredom.”

“That would be nice,” replied Davos. 

“To boredom.” Bronn raised his tankard. Davos and Podrick did the same, and to his surprise so did Jaime. 

Jaime took another drink, then hiccuped again. He stared into his tankard, looking confused. 

“What?” Bronn asked.

“Nothing,” Jaime replied. He finished his drink and put the empty tankard on the table. 

“Is it all gone?” Bronn asked him. 

“Uh huh.”

“Must be time for another one then. Off you go, Pod.”

Podrick stood up, then hesitated. 

“I didn’t bring any money,” he said. 

“Here you go,” Jaime said. He clumsily fished out a few more coins and slid them across the table. 

“Thank you, my lord.” Pod picked them up and made his way over to the bar. It didn’t take him long to come back with more drinks. 

Jaime took a sip of his and made another face. 

“This stuff isn’t getting any better, you know,” he remarked. 

“Well, you haven’t died of plague yet.” Bronn told him. 

“Yet.” Jaime replied, taking another drink. 

Bronn noticed that Davos and the Hound were watching Jaime, both of them looking bemused. Clegane muttered something under his breath before gulping down his own drink. 

Jaime was looking around at the other people in the tavern. 

“No-one here likes me,” he said, gesturing vaguely with his tankard. He was starting to slur. 

“The Starks definitely don’t like me.”

“I wonder why.” Clegane growled. 

“They don’t like me,” Jaime continued, pointing at Davos and the Hound. “Mind you, I don’t think Clegane likes anyone very much. He’s always been a grumpy bastard.” He finished in a very loud whisper. Davos chuckled into his drink. 

“You don’t like me,” he said to Bronn. “You’re only here ‘cause I’m paying you.”

“That’s true.” Bronn said.

“And my sister doesn’t like me. Not any more. She wants to chop my head off. I don’t like having things chopped off. It hurts. A lot.” He nodded for emphasis. 

“Well, at least your brother likes you.” Bronn told him. 

“That’s true. I saved his life once, you know.”

“Yes, I know.” Bronn glanced at Podrick again. There was a pause. 

“Lady Brienne likes you.” Pod said. 

Jaime was quiet a moment. He started to smile. 

“Really? Did she say that?”

“Well, no, not exactly,” Podrick began. 

“What did she say?”

“Not much, really,” Pod stammered. “I mean, Lady Brienne doesn’t really talk that much. Especially about... private things.” He looked at Bronn as if asking for help. Bronn just sat back in his chair with a smirk. 

“But then how do you know?” Jaime insisted. “If she didn’t say anything, how do you know?” 

“Well, I, erm...”

“Podrick, please, you have to tell me!” Jaime practically whined. Pod opened his mouth but no words came out. 

Bronn finally took pity on him.

“Fuck’s sake. It’s obvious, ain’t it?”

“Is it?” Jaime asked. 

“Of course it is. The way you two look at each other.”

“What do you mean?”

“You want to fuck her, she wants to fuck you. It’s obvious.” He took another drink. 

Jaime smacked him on the arm with his golden hand, looking shocked. 

“Bronn! You shouldn’t say things like that! Brienne’s a lady. You mustn’t say things like that about ladies. It’s disre... disres... dispecful... It’s rude. You mustn’t be rude about ladies.”

Bronn held up his hands in surrender. 

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry.”

“No no no no. You don’t say sorry to me. You say sorry to her.”

“I will. Next time I see her.”

“Good.” Jaime wagged an unsteady finger at him. “‘Cause she’d kick your arse otherwise.” He pointed at Clegane.

“She kicked his arse and he’s a lot bigger and scarier than you are. She nearly kicked my arse once. Although I did have my hands tied together at the time. Back when I had hands.”

He contemplated his golden hand for a moment, lost in thought. 

“What was I saying?”

“That Lady Brienne would kick my arse.” Bronn reminded him. 

“Yeah she would.” Jaime grinned to himself. “She’s so great. She’s not like Cersei. Cersei’s mean. Brienne’s... what’s the opposite of mean? ‘Cause she’s that.”

“Uh huh.”

“I love her, Bronn. I do. I love her so much.”

“I know.” Bronn couldn’t help smiling, but he tried to hide it by taking another drink. Jaime turned back to Podrick. 

“You really think she likes me too?”

“Yes, my lord.” Podrick managed to say. 

Jaime’s grin got bigger. 

“Right. Now we’ve got that sorted out, all you have to do is go and tell her.” Bronn told him. 

The grin faded a bit. 

“What? Just like that?”

“Yeah, of course. It’s easy.”

“But what if she’s still angry with me? I wasn’t very nice to her in Kings Landing.”

“I’m sure she’ll forgive you.”

“You think so?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake. She’s in love with you, you idiot. Fuck knows why though.”

Jaime was quiet for a moment. 

“You really think I should tell her?”

“Seven hells. Yes!”

“Alright then.” Jaime got unsteadily to his feet. 

“Where are you going?” Bronn asked him. 

“To find Brienne.” 

“I didn’t mean right now!”

“But why not? You said to go and tell her.”

“You’re very drunk.” Bronn explained carefully. 

Jaime nodded slowly. 

“Yes.”

“Ladies don’t like that.”

Jaime shook his head. 

“No.” He sat down again. “I’ll tell her tomorrow.” 

“That’s the most sensible thing you’ve said in months.” Bronn told him. He went back to his drink. 

“I’ll tell her tomorrow,” Jaime said again. He was starting to lean against Bronn. 

“I’ll go and find her and I’ll tell her. I’ll say ‘Brienne, I love you. I love you lots and lots and lots. Please marry me so we can go and live on Tarth and go for long walks on the beach and make love every night and live happily ever after.’”

He was just about resting his head on Bronn’s shoulder. 

“That would be nice. Don’t you think that sounds nice?” He asked dreamily. 

“Sounds lovely.” Bronn shoved him into a more upright position. 

“You wanna know something else Bronn?” Jaime slurred. 

“What?”

“This ale is the worst thing I have ever drunk. Ever. It’s awful. Is really bad. Really, really...”

His voice trailed off as his eyes lost focus and he fell forwards on to the table with a thump. 

The following silence was eventually broken by Clegane. 

“What the fuck was that about?”

“That,” Bronn told him, “is an idiot in love.”

“He’s in love with Brienne of Tarth?”

“Yeah.”

“Him? The Kingslayer?” The Hound pointed at Jaime. 

“Uh huh.”

“In love with Brienne of fucking Tarth? Tall woman, blonde hair?”

“That’s the one.”

“And she loves him?”

“Yup.”

Podrick nodded in agreement. The Hound stared at them. 

“Fucking hell. Maybe it is the end of days after all.” He took a big drink. 

Maybe it was, thought Bronn. Maybe they were all doomed to die. But if Jaime Lannister could finally manage to confess his love for Brienne, maybe miracles were possible after all.

**Author's Note:**

> So there you go. I’ve been wanting to write drunk Jaime for ages. And Bronn is one of my favourite characters who never got his own POV chapters. I hope you enjoyed it. :)


End file.
